


Exorcism

by Khadgarfield



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, BSDM mentioned, Blood and Injury during Sex, Comfort, Edgeplay, Fluff, Gentle Furry Fucking, Impact Play, Knotting, M/M, Thats right folks this is FURRY PORN, Worgen Sex, reference to infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27470245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khadgarfield/pseuds/Khadgarfield
Summary: After an unfortunate turn of events Genn is pretty convinced he doesn't want to do this anymore.Anduin is pretty convinced that having sex with a worgen is actually a great idea.
Relationships: Genn Greymane/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	Exorcism

**Author's Note:**

> i STARTED THIS AGES AGO and had a hard time of it tbh. I could probably tighten it up and make it more elegant with some extra days sunk in, but i need to post now cause i have some other things im working on. specifically, something for a ship ive never written before, that involves sexy middle aged men (im just like that, i suppose).
> 
> Thank you Felrott for suggesting the hurt/comfort-y thematic concept, along with Jel and Trollsweat for doing The Most to make me a furry in as little time as possible.
> 
> xoxo your friend garf

Genn had made him bleed before, sometimes because he asked him to and sometimes purely by accident, but he had never truly injured him in a way that would have consequences.

Anduin was a benevolent, but willful man, and he had a masochistic streak that was narrow, but ran deep. Genn was a warrior to his bone, skilled at administering a rough touch on request, often unshackled from the remorse that might normally follow such a gesture. A slap here, a bruise there, or even a bite hard enough to break skin, they lay together in a way that bled into the young King’s training. When they danced, sparring with blunted swords in the courtyard, Anduin would often goad him into harsher or faster attacks, parrying with blade and then with glasslike planes of light that shattered on impact. Genn would be knocked back, breathing ragged, before he stood and lunged and maybe this time he would strike him hard enough to slice through his cloth training armor. The smell of his blood was sweet and heady, and when no one was looking he would smile at Genn in a way that would show his canines, and reminded him deeply of his father.

“You are improving,” Genn told him one afternoon, his sword lowering to his side and smearing blood against the weave of his breeches. “But you still allowed me to make contact. If this was a battlefield you would be dead.”

Anduin Wrynn laughed, twisting his body to regard the long slice that ran down his side and across his stomach. It was a surface wound, nothing more, and with a flick of his hand it was gone again as fast as it had been put there in the first place. The faint ozone smell of healing magic lingered in the courtyard.

“No foe on the battlefield could strike me with such fury as you do, Genn.”

It wasn’t entirely clear if this was something he truly believed, or a roundabout way of saying he let himself be hit on purpose. Genn scowled.

“Perhaps not, but that’s not my only criticism. You can’t rely on your light magic to protect you in combat. If you exhaust yourself casting shields, you will have no power left with which to strike an enemy down.”

“Perhaps I don’t want to strike an enemy down,” Anduin told him, meeting his eyes. “Surely a greater show of strength is having the restraint not to?”

“A greater show of foolishness,” Genn told him. “You are too trusting towards those who might seek to do you harm.”

“And you see malice and cruelty in people where there is none.”

Genn was tired of hearing this, yet Anduin insisted on saying it. At some stage, he had begun to block it out, but still it echoed at the back of his mind like a half-forgotten dream. Genn sheathed his sword and gestured to Anduin that their exercise was done. The hour was late, the sun was setting, and black crows were flying over the keep to roost.

“Go and bathe,” Genn told him shortly. “I will do the same.”

“Can I expect your company this evening?”

“Do you desire it?”

Anduin stood for a moment, regarding him. His eyes always made Genn feel like he was being vivisected, like he was some oddity to be gaped at in the Darkmoon Faire. His eyes were so blue they should have been impossible, and his face was the face of a saint in the glass of a cathedral window. He shone with light like a window did, too.

“I do.”

So it was Genn found himself in Anduin’s chambers again, pouring him wine and watching him eat scones smeared with cherry jam. Genn enjoyed the way he ate, the way he hovered his hand above a morsel, the way he licked his fingers and his lips, and most of all he enjoyed the taste of his kisses when they finally drew close. Genn held his jaw and kissed him until his breath was ragged, and his body buckled under a firm hand in the way his will did not. Once, the sound of Anduin gasping had shaken him to his core, but he had grown numb to it now. A shameless tongue sliding against his own was more convincing than his voice was anyway – it conveyed an unspoken craving, a smoldering thirst for _harder,_ and for _more_.

Indeed, every time they came together, it became more and more difficult for Genn to resist the gravity of his requests. The things he asked at first mirrored Genn’s own desires, and it had seemed that both of their hearts had been sculpted by the silent fury of bearing a crown, yet now his requests were exquisite and callous in a way that Genn could not know. Genn would strike him harder with every lash of a scourge, and Anduin would revel in it; the sear in his flesh morphed to delirium in his eyes. How could Genn _not_ succumb to the invitation to push further? At a certain stage, there was not enough force in his loins to satisfy the hungering void Anduin manifested inside of him, and there wasn’t enough resolution in his mortal flesh to resist.

On this night, he felt this keenly.

Genn fucked him into the mattress with all his weight, his ruthlessness met with weak sounds of agony, or maybe bliss. They had been busy like this for hours now, and he was near spent, encroaching climax welling in him until, inexorably, it became too much to suppress. He could feel himself on the cusp of containing multitudes, his boundaries expanding to encompass the body of the cosmos, and Anduin submitted to him so beautifully that his sweaty, broken frame felt like just another extension of himself.

That is, until it happened. The unthinkable, terrible thing.

Genn wouldn’t have even noticed if it wasn’t for the sound he made – a pitched yelp that was _nothing_ like the noises that usually defined their bedding. Startled, he pulled his hand back, and then he realized that his hand wasn’t a hand anymore, it was a partial claw, and the fingers that had sunk so deliciously into Anduin’s shoulder had left long, deep gouges in his flesh.

_No._

Anduin was howling, a loud curse pulling from his lips, and Genn scrambled to untie him from the headboard with his grotesque, half-shifted hands. Once freed, Anduin tore their bodies apart, and backed up against the top of the bed to gasp for air. Blood was pouring in thin rivers down his arm and chest, and the sheets beneath them both were blooming like a garden of crimson roses. Genn thought he was going to be sick.

“No,” He heard himself say, and the flesh on his arms crawled as he forced himself back into his human skin. “No, _fuck,_ I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it.”

Anduin was looking at him, wide eyed and wild, and there was blood on his face like he was a casualty in yet another relentless battle. His chest rose and fell in a hitching, panicked throb, and with his back pressed against the headboard Genn couldn’t see the true extent of the lacerations but they had seared themselves into his memory. He knew he would see them there, stark red on porcelain, if he tried to close his eyes.

 _Worgen,_ Anduin’s eyes said, and Genn didn’t know if it was an acknowledgement, or an accusation. He felt the shame in him burning hotter than his lust ever had. The silence between them stretched on for seconds, but the seconds felt like hours and hours and Genn had no way to know what was going through his head. Betrayal? Anger? Terror?

“… You gave me a fright,” Anduin panted eventually. “Oh _light_ , Genn, you gave me a fright.”

_A fright?_

Was that it? Just a fright? Anduin had howled in the way a dying man screams for mercy. His muscle and skin was shredded nearly to the bone. Genn had torn wounds like that into the meat of his enemies, and in enemies to the Alliance alike, but _never_ had he dreamt he could do such a thing to him. To the threaten the life he loved as zealously as he loved his own.

“I didn’t mean to,” Genn told him again, his voice a hoarse whisper. “I swear on my life.”

It was his own fault, he knew it, for letting himself drop that deep into himself. For forgetting where he was, and who he was with, and for not paying more attention. He had failed to remember that Anduin was more delicate, more _human,_ than he thought he was - nothing more than a reckless child who didn’t know what was good for him. Just because he begged for more didn’t mean he would be able to take it, and Genn _knew_ that. How could he forget?

How humiliating.

This was worse than any shameful death he could think of. A part of him wished that Anduin might lash at him now in retaliation. Bring all the vengeance of the light down on him and purge the rot from his soul.

“I know you didn’t mean to.”

Anduin had calmed enough to sit up straight. He winced as he brought a hand up to his mangled shoulder, to cauterize the injury as best he could. Genn knew though, that his holy magic did not always work so well on wounds by Worgen hands, and this was no mere sword scratch, besides.

“I… I can’t think what to say. That was a….”

Mistake? Disgrace?

He watched, heart cold, as the marks on Anduin’s body began to knit together. The heal was not smooth and easy - it was jagged as though there was detritus buried deep in the cuts. There was nothing that could be done about the sheets. This was more than a few gory spatters, like how it usually was when Genn struck him. The bed looked like a sacrificial altar, and like a tribute to some unhallowed monster, Anduin sat upon it bare.

“It’s okay, Genn.” He said, voice soft and reassuring and kind. “I forgive you.”

They stared at one another for a moment, Genn’s face flushed and pained, Anduin’s calm and beautiful as though he was contemplating something profoundly mundane. After the pause had gone on for just long enough, he slid off the bed, and moved to the table under the window. There was a spread of food still laid there, and half a bottle of wine, but rather than pour himself a glass as Genn thought he would, he lifted the entire bottle and drunk from it directly. It made him look smaller than usual, and much less composed, and Genn felt the prickle of goosebumps at witnessing to this messy, undignified act. He noted that despite his placid expression, and relaxed movements, Anduin’s hand shook as he lowered the bottle again.

“Did you want to finish?” Anduin asked finally. “You didn’t cum.”

_Of course not!_

Genn had never felt less capable of having an orgasm in his life.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Extremely.”

“Please yourself.”

He turned away, baring his back, and the marks on his shoulder were raw and red. His upper body was such a mess of brownish blood and sweat that he stunk of the coppery scent of slaughter, even from across the room. Genn watched him pad towards the closet, where he kept his clean, simple clothes, and pull out a plain white tunic to tug on.

“I’m sorry,” Genn said again lamely, still unable to come to terms with what had happened. His heart was clawing fiercely at the back of his throat. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

He knew it was a lie, the moment he said it. He knew _exactly_ what it was that had come over him. He heard his own voice, in the deep, dark places of his mind.

_You are just a beast, burdened with a human conscience. A beast of the most unholy kind._

Of course, it made sense that a creature like him would fall into this kind of arrangement. Compelled to shatter a harbinger of the Light. Genn had believed he had controlled the creature inside him – at least enough that he could serve his King.

He wasn’t so convinced of that now.

…

Anduin invited him to his room after a council meeting one evening – an offering that Genn ultimately declined. He had never been able to decline him before, not since the first time they had done this thing, and the surprise was visible on his face but he did not complain or protest.

“Very well,” He said. “I bid you goodnight then, King Greymane.”

The use of his title was unintentionally cold, but it was softened by the way he laid a hand on Genn’s arm and stood on his toes to brush a stolen kiss against his cheek.

“Goodnight.”

It was not a good night at all, though. Genn lay awake for most of it, dreading the next invitation that would come no less than a week later. He was staying with Mia and the Night Elves at the time, and had not examined if that was because he sought to check in on the pumpkins at Wollerton Stead, or because he was avoiding the Alliance High King. The message came on a fragment of watermarked paper, not formal or diplomatic in any way. It was folded in two, and unsigned, and written in Anduin’s own hand.

_Supper?_

Genn told the young girl who delivered the note to tell the sender he had to decline.

“He told me you would pay me, your majesty. For delivering the letter.”

“… Did he now?”

Genn gave the child two silver coins for her service, while Mia looked on fondly. He had not enjoyed the remainder of their walk around Olivia’s Pond, however, his fist tightened around the crumpled note in the bottom of his coat pocket. He couldn’t evade the man forever, could he?

Anduin sought him the first night back in his chambers, even though he had arrived after dark, and he had thought that no-one yet knew of his return.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Genn.”

“I haven’t,” Genn stripped off his coat, flinging it over the armchair in the corner of his small, peasant room. Anduin stood leaning against the doorframe, dressed in the tunic and breeches he typically wore to bed.

“You declined my invitation for supper two nights ago.”

“I was spending time with my wife.”

Anduin always held his tongue, when Mia was mentioned. He had never asked about her, and Genn had never offered any explanation. Perhaps he was conflicted – Anduin had always cared for Mia, as she had cared for him, and it was probable that thinking too hard about that matter would make things difficult for everyone.

Not as difficult as the situation they were in now, though.

Anduin sighed, and changed the subject.

“Well, would you come and stay with me tonight? We don’t have to fuck if you don’t want to. I’m lonely, and I can’t sleep.”

Gen felt his heart pull. For a moment his resolution wavered.

_Could I? Sleep beside him undisturbed, and pretend like none of this ever happened?_

Of course not. The marks on Anduin’s body had faded now, barely even shadows on the skin visible under the neckline of his tunic, but Genn could still remember the sight of them as clearly as they were in front of his face.

“I can’t,” Genn told him, as steadily as he could manage.

“You can’t tonight? Or ever again?”

Genn winced, as though the question had been a physical lash. Anduin’s voice was gentle, which made it all the harder for Genn to say what he needed to.

“Probably ever again.”

He dropped down onto the end of his skinny single bed, and felt the weight of the day sink lower into his soul. This was the first time he had admitted that this might be over. The training. The fucking. The dangerous game. Not because he wanted to, so much as because he had realized something in the time that had passed since they had last shared a bed. Something that had always hovered over him, always present at the back of his mind even in those most intimate moments when Anduin drew him in and held him close and begged for his sweet cruelty.

The young king made him wild. Wilder than the full moon in the summer. Wilder than the curse that thrummed in his veins. When he was with him, it was not always easy to tell the boundaries between Genn, the man, and Genn, the animal. For so long he had thought he had control, but if he could slip up once? Then surely that meant he would end up slipping again.

“Ok.” Anduin sounded steady. Cool and calm. As though this was the response he had expected. “If that’s what you want then, Genn, I understand that. But, do you mind if I ask you something before I go?”

“You just did.”

“Something else.”

Genn scowled and turned his face away, to look deep into the mortar lines of the stonework wall. The lines splayed apart and rejoined again in regular intervals, eternally tessellating, like a controlled projection of a thought rattling around in his mind.

 _A labyrinth,_ he told himself. _Or a trap._

“Very well,” He conceded against his best interests. “Make it quick.”

“I want to know why? Is it because of what happened last time?”

A foolish question. Genn had thought the young man smarter than that.

“Of course it’s because of last time! Why do you think? I _hurt_ you, child. I might do it again.”

At this, though, Anduin sighed.

“Genn, how many times have I told you. You couldn’t hurt me even if you wanted to.”

The effortless conviction in how he said it, the audacity to even make such a claim, needled Genn in all the worst ways. It made him wish he _did_ want to hurt him.

“I already did,” Genn snapped. “Or does your memory fail you as severely as your judgement does.”

“Your memory is the one which has failed, if you think a wound like that substantial.”

Genn had killed soldiers with a smaller wound than that. Orc soldiers, sure, and one or two goblins, but a kill was a kill whatever the race of the victim. His kills had piled up, a mountain of vengeance that still didn’t fill the void in him. Only Anduin, his malleable flesh and passionate eyes, had filled him with anything even remotely resembling satisfaction. When he shuddered beneath him, when he bled and begged and arched his body against Genn’s strike, and when after all of this he still asked for it harder. Hard enough that soon he stopped asking for anything, and the only thing his broken body could do was cum.

“Masochist,” Genn told him.

“You like to give, Genn, as much as I like to take. We match, remember?”

A shadow moved over him as Anduin slipped out of the doorway and into the room, and lowered himself down beside Genn on the end of the bed. Genn closed his eyes, letting a shoulder press against his own, allowing a hand to brush tenderly against the side of his cheek and his short, blunt nails to scratch lightly against his beard. It felt good. He resisted the urge to lean into the touch.

“I remember,” he said, and he did.

Genn remembered how it had first happened. How they had been sparring, and he had struck the man with too much force and he had fallen, and Genn had stumbled to help him up again but rather than complain, Anduin had just lain there on the ground winded and staring up at the sky. His cheeks were flushed, and loose hair stuck in sweaty tendrils to the edges of his face. The feeling that had swelled in Genn then was dizzying. Exhilarating. He remembered nothing more than the overwhelming desire to kiss him.

A part of him broke, into a million irrecoverable pieces, and scattered like ashes on the water.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to bed with me?”

Genn relented. He said that he did.

…

True to his word, Anduin did not try and lay a hand on him, and after he had fallen asleep Genn stayed awake and watched him rest. Anduin’s gentle breathing was hypnotic, lulling strange thoughts to the surface of Genn’s mind. After a while, he noticed that they cycled, from warm and fond, to cruel and terrifying, but ultimately, they were all different ways of looking at the same problem. The eternal problem. The knot of unresolved emotions weighing in his chest.

_Do you truly love him? Or do you just hate yourself?_

He couldn’t deny it was easier to live with himself, if he could take out his agonies on the willing, untarnished flesh of another.

Genn tried to remember what it had felt like to be the man he was twenty years ago, when he had not felt remorse for anything he did and before Anduin was even so much as a thoght. At that time, Genn had been aging and human. He had been selfish, and stubborn, and haughty. Maybe though, he had justifiable reason. Liam had still lived in those days, his bloodline was guaranteed to continue on even after Genn’s eventual demise. Gilneas too, still stood strong, and any ideas about the Alliance, or about a child just born to Stormwind’s young Queen, were so distant and meaningless that he barely even remembered having them. When was it, exactly, that all of that had changed irrevocably?

He knew before he even tried that picking the moment was impossible. He already knew it wasn’t a single impactful event that did it, so much as a slow slide down a slippery slope into purgatory. One thing after the other wore him down, like waves of invaders tore down the walls of his land and his home. Somehow, between then and now, Genn had lost himself and found someone else, and that someone else, that animal, was lay here in his place

What a strange feeling. To not recognize oneself, while also being far too familiar with the innermost workings of one’s mind.

Genn was only dozing when dawn broke, cool and grey, and the light edged into the chamber through uncurtained windows and fell in thin shafts on Anduin’s face. The young king stirred, jolting Genn from his half-rest, and shuffled closer to him in the way he would normally after they had spent the night in each other’s company.

“Morning, Genn.”

“Good morning.”

Anduin pushed the bedsheets down and stretched against the pillows - a languid gesture, like a lazy housecat unfurling in the heat of the sun. Genn knew when he felt his heart clench that he needed to get up and get dressed and leave as soon as possible, but for some reason he found it harder to do than it should have been. Anduin finished stretching, and rolled over onto his side to regard him sleepily.

“You look like you didn’t sleep a wink,” He said.

“I didn’t.”

Anduin clicked his tongue and reached between them to touch the side of Genn’s face. He had never said it explicitly, but Anduin seemed to just know that Genn liked it when he touched his face. He was silent for a moment, eyes searching Genn’s expression for something, before he spoke again.

“Jaina told me a few days ago that amongst Kul Tiran nobility, it is common to tell their daughters that worrying will give them wrinkles and make them unmarriageable. Do Gilneans also have such an unkind tradition?”

Was he really that visibly fretful? Genn said he didn’t remember. When he had been of marriageable age, there had been nary a wrinkle near him.

Anduin hummed thoughtfully, fixing him with a long, deep stare that couldn’t quite be placed. When he left the chamber, it was only after promising Anduin he would be back again. Maybe not this evening, but soon.

And even monsters can keep promises from time to time. Genn returned after two more nights of restless sleep, with the intention to reemphasize they needed to stop seeing each other immediately. Anduin greeted him freshly washed, his hair loose on his shoulders and his body fragrant from the herbs he floated in his bathwater. He had been at work pouring over letters or signing paperwork; the side of his hands were stained with ink.

“You actually came,” He said, stepping aside to let Genn enter and gesturing to the guard standing a few feet down the hallway that she should leave them to have some privacy

“I’m not staying for long,” Genn told him, even though he had already begun to pull his coat off. “I just wanted to tell you I thought more about our conversation the other day.”

“Oh?” Anduin closed the door behind him and held out a hand. At first, Genn didn’t know what he was asking for, and then he realized and passed him the coat. He felt more exposed than usual when Anduin turned away, hanging it up on a hook on the back of the chamber door.

The room, as always, was warm, heated by a fire burning in an ornate stone fireplace. It was a sphere of comfort against the rain that tapped against the windows. Anduin’s desk was in use, covered in paperwork, and there was a plate of half-eaten supper sitting next to a glass of white wine. It looked like a quiche of some kind. Or maybe a tart.

“Looks like you’re busy anyway.”

“Not with anything of consequence. You came to tell me you don’t rescind your decision, I take it?”

He arched a single eyebrow in a wry expression Genn had not seen before. It made him flush, which was mortifying.

“I have.”

“Very well.” Anduin sighed, and ran his hand absently through his hair. “If you want to stop, then we can stop. But I think I will regret it for the rest of my life If I don’t ask you one more thing before I lose the opportunity forever. Is that okay?”

A strange look passed over his features. His expression was shifting like dunes in a desert, a mirage of emotion that Genn couldn’t quite pin down, and he realized that this was because Anduin was trying to mask his real thoughts, and failing.

_That bad, huh?_

“… Go on then.”

He had expected that Anduin might have told him something truly terrifying. Maybe that he had enjoyed the brutality with which Genn had injured him that night, or worse that he had never enjoyed any of this and he had been simply going along with it to please him. Both possibilities filled the pit of his guts with gnawing dread, but even prepared for the worst Genn had to take a moment to process what it was that came out of the young man next. Had he misheard him? Had he imagined it? for a second there, it sounded as though Anduin had said…

“I’d like you to lie with me one more time. As a Worgen though, if that's alright.”

Naturally, Genn was somewhat taken aback.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, I would like you to lie with me one more time. As a _Worgen,_ if that's alright.”

His cheeks coloured as he said it. Genn felt as though the King had just slapped him. The eyes that had held his own so impudently moments before slid away, fixing on the spot just at Genn’s shoulder.

“I know it’s a strange request,” He said. “But I’ve never had the courage to ask before, and I suppose now is as good a time as any?”

Actually, Genn couldn’t have thought of a _worse_ time. Or a worse proposal. Never had he imagined the man capable of such indecency, and Genn had seen him beg to be spanked and whipped and bitten. It took every ounce of his restraint to keep his voice steady when he replied

“I would sooner die than put you at such risk. You saw for yourself what I can do to you like that, and if I can’t keep myself sound in this shape then how can you expect me not to lose myself?”

“Genn,” This was not the response Anduin had hoped for. “You stand before me now as a human, as you always did even when first turned, and I have found you to be my most _loyal_ companion, regardless of circumstance. I know that even if you claim to be wretched, your soul is pure, so I’m quite serious in this request.” he paused for a moment, then added. “Perhaps if I show you that there is no monster inside you, and maybe if I say it enough times, you will believe me eventually.”

Genn had had enough. This man was more stubborn than he could ever be. It drove him to _madness._

He felt the change come on him before he could help it. A shift he had endured countless times, many before the eyes of Anduin himself, but never before had a transformation felt so emphatic. So furious. The pierce of his bones cutting furrows in new flesh, the snaping of tendons and frantic crochet of his arteries and veins within him, made him break into a cold sweat across his shoulders. His pelt spread over his form like a ripple across the sea, and before he was even fully changed he was reaching for him, seizing the front of his shirt with taloned hands and jerking him close enough that Genn’s hot breath skated across his cheek.

“No monster?” He growled, in the low, husky timbre of his Worgen form. “Seems the virtuous king has made a liar of himself.”

Even with his eyes wide, dilated endless black and reflecting Genn’s ghastly face back at him, the young King replied with only the barest tremor in his tone.

“I am not a liar, Genn. I see no evil thing here.”

He lifted his hands, already delicate against his body when Genn was in human skin and now positively diminutive, to lay them gently against the heat of Genn’s chest. Startled by the gesture, Genn released his grip on Anduin’s shirt.

“What are you doing?” He asked, as small palms sunk against the softness of his fur, brushing against the strained neckline of his tunic.

“You’re warm, Genn.” Anduin told him simply. “Like a furnace.”

A furnace that was beginning to tinder, at the strangeness and wonder of his touch.

Genn recalled his proposition fleetingly, before steeling himself against it lest it take root in his psyche. Maybe though, he thought, it was already too late - he stood in silence, jaws gritted tight, as Anduin raked his fingers through the thick coat on his neck. Beneath the fur, he knew he bore muscles not unlike his human ones. Leaner, maybe. Faster. Stronger. Probably pleasant to squeeze and touch.

“What's it like?” Anduin asked him softly. “To be in this shape?”

“Hm.” Genn hated that question, it reminded him of the weaknesses of the body he was born with. He answered him anyway – perhaps a part of him hoped the man would step back, if he knew how great the difference was.

“It makes my human perception of the world feel crude in comparison.”

“How do you mean?”

How did he mean? Genn wasn’t sure how to explain that when he was like this, he could hear Anduin’s heart beating in his chest. He could smell the goats milk soap he used to wash his hair. When Genn flanked him on a battlefield, he could count _legions_ of soldiers, one by one, and make out their faces in painstaking detail.

“I… Don’t know how to explain.” He replied. “there’s many details. Too much information for human senses. My body feels stronger, and…”

And the fury in him burns brighter. He thought that if he were to take Anduin like this, he would be able to hit him harder and for longer, and maybe finally give him what he wanted, assuming that what he wanted was complete oblivion. This assumption was a fair one - What other desire could there be, that would possess him to step closer, pull the space between them shut, and bury his face deep in Genn's chest?

He smelled good. Human. Genn noted his body felt slightly cool against him. 

“And what?”

“Nothing.”

Genn forced himself to remain calm, as Anduin’s hands wandered up to his shoulders, making Genn quiver when his hands combed through fur that had been laid flat. The sensation was pleasurable. It was hard not to whimper. 

“You can touch me too,” Anduin said, into the side of his throat. “I insist.”

Genn wasn’t really sure how to do that. He wasn’t sure he _trusted_ himself. His claws could gut him in an instant, irrespective of if he wanted to or if he didn't. One wrong move, and his torso would be slit from rib to groin. There was no healing magic strong enough to mend that, not even in Anduin’s capable hands.

“I will hurt you,” Genn told him.

“You won’t.” He insisted. “You strike me when I ask you to, yes, but you also touch me so gently when you think I won’t notice.”

“You may not like the feeling.”

“I _will."_ Anduin pulled back a little, and brought his hands down to curl his fingers around Genn’s wrists. “if you prefer to be gentle, then be gentle. I don’t really care I just want you to touch me.”

He pulled Genn’s claws close, and guided them gently against the line of his waist. 

“Is that so bad?”

Genn let his hands, bloodstained weapons that they were, cradle the body of the most important person in Azeroth. Anduin caressed the shape of his muzzle and ears, pausing as he noticed the way they lay backwards in apprehension. Genn, unfortunately, couldn’t have stopped that particular tic if he tried.

“Oh,” He sounded breathless at the discovery. “I’ve never noticed that before.”

“It’s not on purpose,” Genn snarled. “Don’t touch the-“

It was too late. Anduin had already brought his hands up to scratch him like a lapdog. The sensation shocked him. Reminded him of having a hand sliding up the inside of his thighs. He uttered a short, animalistic whine, and Anduin inhaled sharply. Genn could smell a blooming of arousal. A sigh of hormones, imperceptible to Anduin or indeed, to himself in human form. Did he always have this scent when he was turned on?

“ _Light_ , Genn.”

“You should stop.” Genn tried to push him away, but struggled under the burden of taloned fingers. Anduin’s hands slipped from his ears and twisted in the braids Genn wore across his shoulders. “Before I hurt you again.”

“You won’t," Anduin breathed, voice light with awe. “and I _really_ don't feel like saying that again. Do you actually want me to stop?”

He had to stand on his toes, pulling Genn down by his braids, to press kisses along the line of his jaw. Genn could feel his mouth grow wet, against his will again, and pressed chest to chest he could feel that Anduin was hard in his pants. His own loins were beginning to ache, and feverish desire was spilling into his blood. He had thought to answer him with words, with the shameful, perilous admission that he didn’t, but instead somehow he felt his jaws open. He dragged his tongue wetly against the side of Anduin’s face.

_Mortifying. Singularly the most shameful thing he had ever done_

Anduin, though, seemed taken by it. He moaned in delight, and leaned back again to meet Genn’s eyes. 

“Is that a 'No'?” he asked.

Genn knew he couldn’t deny him anymore. Not now. The threat of injury was ever present, but so was the promise of ecstasy, and perhaps he _could_ try, just once, to allow hands that only ever destroyed to be gentle.

“Don't stop.”

the young King looked triumphant for a split second, but it passed quickly, and Genn felt his heart flutter at the way Anduin looked at him. It was identical to how he looked at him always, and was more convincing than any words could be. When he looked at Genn he saw only him. No creature. No curse. Just who he truly was.

“Then bed me again.” He said, “I’ve missed you sorely.”

Genn felt his back on the mattress faster than he could register what was happening. Anduin knocked him back effortlessly, and he wasn’t sure if it was a magical thrust that pushed him down, or simply the gravity of how badly Genn wanted him. Anduin stripped himself of his clothing as he moved to the bed, taking seat across Genn’s hips and pulling apart the straining buttons of his shirt. His movements were excited. Urgent even. He wasted no time fumbling open Genn’s pants and dragging them down far enough that he could claim his prize. 

If Anduin was startled by the size of him, he did not show it. In fact, if he was startled by anything about how his body looked now, he didn’t show it. Genn knew very little of how fucking like this was going to work, although he knew there were many who did it. He had never even tried to look at himself when shifted, too ashamed and too afraid he would see something he didn’t recognize. That fear had not been unfounded, but it was not as harsh as he had thought it might be, and the ease with which Anduin took him in hand and stroked him like he had so many times before was soothing. His touch still felt wonderful - his strange body felt all things more acutely than his human one.

The brief eye contact he shared with Anduin made the fur on his shoulders and back prickle, and then Anduin was dropping his eyes and bowing as though in supplication, taking as much as he could of Genn's cock into his mouth. It was hot and wet and welcome, his tongue dragging against the tapered head of his length. His hand worked what couldn’t fit between his lips, and the eagerness with which he did it was unfamiliar –it was so unlike all those times he had let Genn push his mouth open and fuck his face.

Genn let his head fall back in awe, reveling in the way a spare hand slid to cup his balls, massaging gently and making him shudder in bliss. Instinctively, he felt his hands move to hold the head between his legs, but he hesitated just short of contact. It was all too possible that Genn could scalp him, if he made one wrong move.

The compulsion to rake his fingers through his hair though, push him down just a few more millimeters until he began to gag on his dick, was almost irresistible. He could feel himself tensing, torn between pleasure and the primal instinct to seek more. He hadn’t realized how rigid he was holding himself until he felt Anduin pull back from the tip of his cock.

“You’re too tense” He slurred, wiping away the spit and precum that glossed his lips. The hand he had used to compensate for his small mouth moved to grasp Genn’s own, his thumb pressing against the meaty pad at the base of Genn’s pointer finger. The pound of water falling against the windows swelled in volume, before suddenly it faded back to static silence. Anduin leaned in and stroked his tongue flatly against the palm of Genns hand.

“I… they are sharp,” Genn reminded him, and his voice shook a little even though it remained rich and deep. “it's too dangerous.”

”Hm,” Anduin tilted his head and pulled Genn’s hand against his delicate cheek, barely even beginning to grow stubble. “but I want you to hold me while I get ready for you,” He said.

He let Genn’s hand drop down again, where it found a comfortable place resting against his thigh. He kneeled up to reach for the oil in the bedside table, and Genn felt his pulse begin to blur into a single throb that constituted his entire soul. His claws were millimeters from Anduin’s body, and the struggle to withhold the full weight of his hand was sweet torture. 

Watching him lean over and finger himself open was easily the sexiest thing Genn had ever seen in his life. Usually, he was in no state to do it, relying on Genn to prepare him while he trembled helplessly, but Genn supposed it made sense that he would know how. Anduin was a young man who would have learned to touch himself long before they first fucked. Watching him though, was such a vivid reminder of his sexuality that it made Genn feel like he could eat him whole.

_What a horrible creature you are, Genn. An evil, sick, fucked up old man._

Anduin removed his fingers, and reached for Genn’s cock. He found himself pulled from his thought, and thrust suddenly into another one.

_It’s too big! He can't possibly._

Anduin did it anyway, taking his length and shifting his pelvis over it before Genn could even growl a warning. The protest died in his throat - the heat of his body accepting him made Genn forget his concerns. Anduin made a quiet, pained sound, and paused for a moment to catch his breath. Genn’s instinct was burning to seize his hips and yank him down hard. Bury himself deep in the body above him, then push him up and do it again.

“ _Light,_ Anduin…”

He deigned to shoot Genn a small, shaky smile, and the colour on his cheeks was dusky like his lips and the head of his own rigid cock.

“Sh.”

Apparently adjusted, Anduin squared his shoulders and allowed himself to sink down fully, impaling himself and exhaling a praise that was almost one word knitted together.

_Youfeelsogood…_

Genn had to close his eyes. If he watched him any longer he was going to shatter. Anduin’s hands came to rest against his breastbone, providing leverage for him to lift himself, then drop back down again. The grasp of his body was heavenly, and just like a touch was the feeling of taking him on this cock was different, from how it felt when he was human.

Anduin built pace fast, and Genn _finally_ let his hands press hard against the muscles of his thighs, appreciating the firm push and pull, and the solidness of his weight. How his body could handle the size of him, though, Genn didn’t know. How he could be feeling _pleasure_ from it? Genn also didn’t know. Ultimately, he didn’t really care – thinking Anduin could take any enjoyment from him like this made him feel all sorts of things, and ultimately it was easier to just succumb. Genn cracked his eyes open again, so he could watch in dazed silence as Anduin reached between his legs and began to stroke himself. His bare chest heaved, breath syncing with the sound of the storm swelling outside, and Genn could see every part of him in detail he had never noticed before. The flutter of a vein in the side of his neck. The way his stomach flexed as he worked his hips. Most of all though, his nipples. They were flushed and hard like pebbles – looking at them made Genn’s back tingle.

He couldn’t help it. He pushed himself up enough to lean in close, dragging his tongue over one and basking in the sharp, blissful sound Anduin made for him.

“ _Genn,_ ”

“Shh…” His turn now to silence him, his voice rumbling low in his chest. Anduin’s spare hand moved to grasp the side of Genn’s head, fingers digging into the spot behind his right ear and shooting frisson down his spine. Genn licked him again, and the noises he earned made his cock feel incredible, strangely swelling, as though he was seconds from finishing even while Anduin stilled on his dick to urge his tongue on. From this proximity, the scent of him was enthralling – not just of herbs and soap but of sweat and sex and that delicious arousal, akin to the earthy scent of a garden at dusk. Anduin moved his second hand from his erection, fingertips seeking the root of Genn’s other ear, urging him with a needy whisper.

“Can you lick my cock like this?” He murmured, and it was so shy and vulnerable and utterly heart melting that Genn knew he was ruined forever and that Anduin Wrynn was right. Genn would _die_ before he did anything to really hurt him. His entire essence would prevent it, even at the cost of his own life.

His orgasm hit him with the same force as Anduin’s magic did in training, every muscle in his body convulsing and making Anduin gasp in his lap. The orgasm felt much deeper, more primal than usual, and it went on forever and halfway through he felt one of Anduin’s hands fly back down to tug at himself until his cum was shot against the short, smooth hair on Genn’s belly. It took longer than expected for the sensation to pass, the deep throb of his seed being spilled into the body above him again and again. It was wonderful. Pleasurable even after the shuddering spasms of climax dissolved from him. No wonder so many Gilnean’s swore by this act.

Genn savored every lingering moment, letting his muzzle notch against the perfumed side of Anduin’s neck, his hands easing over the small of his back. The young king flopped against him, thoroughly spent, and they sat there for a moment in silence joined together. Anduin’s hand slid over his shoulder blades, petting him idlily in a way that made his stomach flutter.

Genn hadn’t felt peace like this for months. The relaxation was so profound, he thought he could stay here like this forever.

“Uh, Genn?” Anduin’s voice was a little breathless, pulling Genn out of deep contemplation and reminding him he was still very much alive and sitting here on this bed with his charge cradled on his thighs.

“Huh?”

“… You’re still hard?”

_Oh. That’s awkward. He didn’t know…_

Genn was thankful that Anduin couldn’t see his cheeks colour, as they surely would have if Genn were showing his human face.

“Oh. No,” He was at a loss, really, to explain the situation. “No, I’m not. That’s something different it’s… a physiological quirk of the curse, I believe. It’s supposed to happen.”

He hadn’t thought about it until that exact moment. He had heard about it, sure - it was one of those things a person just came to hear about when surrounded by other people like him - but it had slipped his mind in the moment and…

“I appear to be stuck on you?”

Genn thought he might never live this down.

“Just. We need to sit here a couple of minutes and it will go away. I’m sorry, it seems I forgot.”

This made Anduin laugh, and if he hadn’t already been draped around him Genn got the impression he would have pulled him into a tight embrace. He raked his fingers lovingly through his coat, and whispered.

“When I move off you, I think the sheets will be ruined.” 

Genn winced. He was probably right. Better not to think about how much he had just expelled into him. Even so, it wouldn’t be the worst sheet-related atrocity the pair of them had committed.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.” He could feel Anduin smile in the tone of his voice. “It feels nice. I’m a little disappointed you finished before I was done convincing you to lick me though…”

The most peculiar rush of affection struck through him. He surrendered to it before he could second guess himself, turning his face to swipe his tongue against Anduin’s cheek like he had before. Anduin sucked a sharp breath, staring at him with wide eyes, and for a moment Genn thought he had misjudged and the gesture was considerably less enjoyable when he wasn't horny. But then his face broke into a smile, and it was more radiant than even a dawning sun.

“Ok. I really, _really_ like that. Just so you know.”

He brushed a short kiss against Genn’s nose.

“Don’t get used to it.” he grumbled.

“Too late.”

Anduin clung to him like he was a lifeline – an island in the middle of a storm, far out in the darkness of a wild, raging sea. Outside, the wind picked up, and the rain hammered against the windows and the stone walls of the keep but inside, tied to him, all was peaceful and Genn was calm.

Anduin Wrynn had kissed him, many, _many_ times before now, but it was only these kisses in this moment, where Genn was vulnerable and they had to trust the other not to cause harm, that he felt any kiss they had ever shared had consequences. He could tell by the way that Anduin sighed, content and more than a little tired, that whatever those consequences were they were good ones.

**Author's Note:**

> maybe i will write more about furry shit in the future idk. there was talk about corsetry and dom!anduin i witnessed earlier.


End file.
